


The Tales of Griff and Robin

by SaddleTramp



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Inspiration, The Tales of Dunk and Egg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 08:31:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12165249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaddleTramp/pseuds/SaddleTramp
Summary: In the thirtieth year of Stannis I's reign after the Long Night, Ser Griff of White Harbor awakes in the Inn of the Kneeling Man with a mysterious boy only known as Robin. Taking him as his squire, the hedge knight wanders around the Seven Kingdoms, looking for work, a meaning to life and what his role in the Seven Kingdoms.Basically the Tales of Griff and Robin but with wish fulfillment and different adventures.





	The Tales of Griff and Robin

‘Get up.’

The man looked up to see a pair of blue eyes stare at him with a bit of mischief. His side was hurting, his throat was drier than the deserts of Dorne, and his stomach was empty. 

Like it always was.

‘Where am I?’ he asked. The eyes twinkled a bit before withdrawing themselves from his vision.

‘You, my friend, are currently in the Inn of the Kneeling Man,’ the youthful voice cheerfully informed him. ‘You took quite a nasty hit from the mace.’

His mind flashed back.  _ A man in misshapen armor. A mace raised. A wicked grin.  _ He groaned in pain as his wound began to attack him, stabbing deep into the recesses of his body.  _ Of course.  _

‘How am I still alive?’ he inquired. ‘Thought he was going to kill me.’

‘Unfortunately for you, there is no such luck,’ the boy muttered, a bit too dark for his tastes. ‘He thought you beneath him and rode out with his men, heading south towards Highgarden.’

_ A Tyrell?  _ He never thought he would grace the mace of a Tyrell, but he guessed he warranted it. He tried to lift himself but he hissed in agony as the pain in his side flared up once again. 

‘You are in no shape to travel. Luckily for you, I have enough coin for you to stay here for at least a week.’

_ What kind of boy has that kind of money?  _ He didn’t know, but he was grateful nonetheless. 

_ Be a knight, the Butcher brothers told me. Protect the innocent. Serve the weak.  _

He knew that the Butcher brothers were not knights in any sense of the word, but they had raised him since he was a wee boy.  _ Given me a chance in life besides crime.  _

‘Thank you,’ he croaked out and laid back down. 

‘You’re welcome, though I suspect that you will not like my conditions,’ the boy said cautiously.  _ Conditions?  _

Another lesson from the Butcher brothers came to him.  _ Nothing in life is free. Everybody has a price.  _

He hated that, but then again, he understood it. Everybody had their reasons for doing what they did. 

‘And what are those conditions?'

The boy was silent for a while. Contemplating. Thinking. Reasoning. He didn’t know what was going through his mind, but he probably didn’t like it.

‘Your horse and armor are still here,’ the boy revealed. ‘I want to be part of your journey through the Seven Kingdoms. To experience it. Take me as your squire.’

_ No,  _ was his first thoughts. He served as a hedge knight, burying his master and taking his arms, armor, and horse for himself when the man had died. He lived a dangerous life, hiring himself out to fight everything from bandits to husbands.

_ But he saved my life,  _ he reasoned to himself.  _ Gave his own coin to a complete stranger. Cared for me when the Tyrell knight came at me and almost caved in my sides.  _

But he had to ask. ‘Why?’

The boy seemed to hesitate. But he gathered his words like a farmer gathering his crops. ‘I’ve lived my entire life in a sheltered environment. Never knew what it meant to be part of something  _ not  _ bigger than myself. I want to see the world for what it is, not what my... _ guardians  _ think I should view it. To see the bad and the good. Like how you defended the barmaid’s honor.’

‘I didn’t do it very well.’

‘But you still did it,’ the boy pointed out. ‘She still has her virtue because of your actions. You have several bruised ribs to show for it, plus the ire of a man who is the heir to the most powerful house in the Reach, but you  _ still did it.’  _

The boy pointed to the shield that Ser Arthur had once wielded. The shield was cracked, splintered, and the paint was chipped and peeling. On it was a shooting star over a longboat. 

‘That shield protected the lowly even when you had no reason but your honor. You remembered your vows as a knight,’ the boy’s eyes lit with praise. ‘Something I want to emulate.’

He couldn’t speak.  _ He thinks this highly of me just because I defended some peasant girl?  _ He had been a peasant himself, once upon a time, before his mother had given him over to the Butcher brothers for a life. 

Before the Butcher brothers handed over to Ser Arthur. And he buried Ser Arthur with his bare hands when they were bleeding and blistering from striking at the hard dirt, working until he had covered the old hedge knight’s body. 

_ Protect the innocent. Serve the weak. A simple vow for a simple man.  _ He had no lord, he had no master besides himself. 

He never thought he would have a squire.

‘Before I agree to this, tell me your name,’ he said. ‘So I don’t have to call you, the boy who saved my life.’

The boy’s black hair and blue eyes shone in the early morning light. His sharp cheekbones reminded him of a man he once knew before he had come to south. The boy’s nose was hooked, hair-thin, and shoulders straight. 

_ He looks like a lord,  _ he thought, even though the boy couldn’t be older than eleven. 

‘My name? They call me many things, but you, ser, can call me Robin.’

_ Robin?  _ A strange name, but a name nonetheless. His side twitched in laughter, though it hurt too much. 

‘Well Robin, my name is Griff. And we're going to have a smashing time.'

The boy smiled. 'Hopefully we won't end up like your ribs then.'

Griff laughed, despite the pain.  _Maybe this won't end badly._

**Author's Note:**

> This is a new series I've been pondering about. For those who are wondering about the Stannis story I'm currently writing, there's going to be updates, but this was something I had to do.


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